Something To Tell
by rhymeswithorangejuice
Summary: John's been having nightmares about the day Sherlock told John that he loves him and then jumped off a building. slight AU. Johnlock.


_John's eyes were fixed on the roof of Saint Barts. He couldn't tear his gaze away from the figure of his best friend stand just standing on the edge, his coat blowing in the wind. He didn't understand what was going on. There was no way Sherlock was a fake._

" _Sherlock?" he asked."What's going on?"_

" _I can't do this, John." Sherlock voice crackled as it came through his phone's speaker._

 _John tried to move once more. "John! Stay right there!" Sherlock reached to John, holding him in place. "Sherlock," John whimpered._

" _John, before I go, I have something to tell you,"_

" _Sherlock, go where? I don't understand," said John. he could hear the fear in his own voice. "Do listen, John, please, this is important. John-" John let out a little whimper when Sherlock said his name. "John, I love you," there was a moment of silence, and Sherlock whispered, "I love you," With that Sherlock dropped his cell phone, and stepped forward into the thin air._

" _Sherlock!" John screamed, rushing forward. The last thing he remembered was hit by a biker and his vision going black._

John shot up, breathing heavily while his heartbeat slowed. Huffing a sigh, he hurled himself into his pillows. He had been having _that_ nightmare less frequently since he found out Sherlock was "not dead."

Staring at the ceiling, he brought a hand to his face, feeling the burning sensation of his flushed cheeks. John couldn't quite tell if they were due to the distress of his best friend throwing himself off a building, that said best friend had confessed his love for him, or the fact that John was flattered that the love confession was the last thing Sherlock had said before flinging himself off a roof.

For the past few years John had thought of Sherlock's last words every day. Every day he contemplated whether he returned the detective's feelings; which wasn't as complicated as one might think. He figured out about a year in that, yes, he did return Sherlock's feelings, if they were romantic. You see, the problem was that John wasn't actually sure that Sherlock's 'love confession' was of a romantic nature; knowing the man it could just as well have been a confession of platonic affection.

A quiet creak filled the room, along with dim morning light and the man responsible for John's confusion.

"John?" Sherlock asked, taking his first step into the bedroom.

John just rolled onto his side, trying to hid his tomato red face from Sherlock. It didn't help; before John could say anything, Sherlock situated himself onto the edge of the bed. "You had the dream again, didn't you?" observed Sherlock, reaching over John's body to awkwardly grasp John's hand. John looked down at their joined fingers. He felt content, like he was where he was supposed to be, having the detective's long pale fingers wrapped around his own small tanned ones. He could feel his face heat up even more, since the fact Sherlock had even platonic feelings for someone as average as himself was a frankly ridiculous notion and he was mortified for even _thinking_ about such a thing.

"John," Sherlock said, lightly nudging him.

"I'm fine, Sherlock; it was just a dream." John mumbled, pressing his face into the pillows. "Your face is bright red, which only happens if you have either been experiencing a nightmare or are extremely embarrassed. And as you have no reason to be embarrassed this early in the day, it is due to a nightmare," Sherlock explained.

John just huffed. "Fine, yes it was the nightmare of you jumping again. Happy now?"

"Quite." said Sherlock. But seeing John's look of resignation, he quickly backtracked, "But not because you had a nightmare, I mean, because you admitted it,"

Maybe he was just sleep deprived, but for some reason John found that hilarious and burst out laughing. He turned toward Sherlock, sitting up at the same time.

"Thanks," he told Sherlock. He looked up at Sherlock, feeling a tad irritated that he had to actually tilt his head to look into the other man's eyes, and grasped the hand holding his tighter.

Gathering his courage, John got up on his knees and leaned into Sherlock, kissing him before he could rethink his actions. He could feel Sherlock stiffen. John put his hands on Sherlock's shoulders, balancing himself against the taller man. Sherlock closed his eyes, leaning into it. He kissed John like his life depended on it, like John was the only thing that had ever mattered in his entire life. And maybe he was. John put his hand tentatively on Sherlock's hair, and Sherlock set his hands on John's waist, making sure to be gentle, like John was a little butterfly that, if touched to roughly, might break.

John wrapped his arms around Sherlock, their lips still locked together. He had to sit up a little to get his arms around Sherlock's neck, and in the process lost his balance, causing them both to fall off the bed onto the floor.

While John would never admit it, he gave a small squeak as they tumbled towards the ground, mostly due to them somehow twisting in midair resulting in the doctor being squashed.

John scrambled into a sitting position while Sherlock gracefully sat back on his ankles. There was a moment of silence as the two men just stared at each other. Sherlock let out a snicker, his wide smile making an appearance, this didn't help John keep a straight face at all. Each one continued to amuse the other until they both burst out laughing.

"I guess that you meant 'I love you' in a romantic way after all," John said, brushing his bangs away from his eyes.

Sherlock stared right at him, moving until he was right up against John's side.

"Of course it was, John," he said, kissing him on the cheek.

"Does this mean we're dating now," John teased, grinning.

Sherlock looked directly into his eyes, and said in the most serious voice John had ever heard him use said; "Yes."

Grinning, John kissed Sherlock's nose. "You git," he said affectionately.

John suddenly sneezed; something smelled off. "Sherlock, is something burning?"

Sherlock's eyes grew wide, he looked panicked. "Oh sh- The eggs!" Sherlock exclaimed, jumping from the edge of the bed and running back down the stairs.

John stared for a moment before bursting into giggles and following his now boyfriend down to the kitchen.


End file.
